Sophy Rickett

Emily Tsingou Gallery

“Can one narrate time,” asked Thomas Mann, “time as such, in and of itself?” Some photographers likewise (or conversely) seem to ask whether one can photograph a moment, decisive or otherwise, as such, in and of itself. Not the moment in which something or other happens (a speech, a kiss, a gunshot, a birth), but simply that in which a certain present reveals itself photographically. Can there be a photograph in which nothing happens but photography, some film’s exposure to some light that has been reflected off some object and concentrated through a lens?

Sophy Rickett’s photographs may not exactly succeed in presenting such moments, but they certainly seem concerned to compress any structurally extraneous narrative content to a bare minimum. Two of those exhibited here, London Studio I and London Studio II, both 2002, make this desire for compression particularly evident: Nearly all-black

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